Deceptive Reflections
by coincidentally
Summary: A foreign kunoichi is offered by the Kazekage to aid the upcoming Konoha invasion by entering the Chunin Exams as a Sand nin. From this agreement, an intricate web of deceit and complications arise. Semi-AU. Contains OC. Rated T for mild swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating:** T for mild swearing.

**Author Notes:** First of all, my friend,** redmockingbird**, helped me write the fight scenes, so a big thank you to her. I know how people feel about OCs, but I will try to the best of my abilities to keep her realistic and in character. Yeah, she has a lot of problems… And if you're expecting a romance story, I wouldn't place my hopes too high on this fic because romance and I do not exactly go hand in hand. But you are, however, welcome to discern the implications.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Naruto series, and all characters with the exception of my OCs are due to their rightful owners. This disclaimer applies to the current chapter and all future chapters.

* * *

一

Land of Wind. Beneath the impossible blue sky, a sea of sand shimmering like gold stretched out into the vast reaches of the unknown. Five figures were streaking across the desert under the relentless heat of the sun, their feet barely leaving a trail on the fine grains.

One figure was a bit farther than the rest, but the remaining four, spread out in an arc, were not behind by too great of an extent.

The soloist at the forefront began to feel her legs grow numb. Taking a cursory glance over her shoulder, she sees her "companions" behind her, their arms flailing behind them as to provide as little resistance to the wind as possible. A flicker of annoyance crossed her features and then vanished as apathy settled again. Perhaps it's time to alter the status quo.

In the near distance, terraced sand walls loomed, standing tall and proud under the scorching noon sun. Behind the walls, predominant domed and angular roofs formed the skyline. It wasn't the best architectural design, but it did have a certain aesthetic appeal to it. On the largest bulbous building, the Chinese character for wind was painted on its wall. Sunagakure. The Village Hidden by Sand.

Stopping a good hundred feet from the walls, the soloist spun around on the balls of her feet and positioned herself in an acceptable fighting stance. Her pursuers stopped as well. She surveyed the four of them, noting their rust colored attire and brown flak jackets. Iwa nins. She hated them.

For a whole minute, they faced each other, no one twitching a muscle. Then came the deadly whiz of a kunai knife, hoping to land its mark on the girl. She, not allowing this, neatly plucked the kunai from the air with the ease of picking cherries from a branch.

"Hmm..." she murmured, "What has Iwa been teaching their ninjas these days?"

Deftly, she swept a packet of senbon from her pouch and launched three handfuls into the air. The senbon raced towards the oncoming Iwa nin in a graceful arc, flashing dangerously in the sunlight.

"These little toys won't do you any good, little girl!" The lead ninja snarled, and he quickly flipped through a series of hand seals.

"_Doton: Shrapnel Shower Jutsu!_" A flurry of rocks and blinding sand shot up from the ground and took to the air, hurtling towards the senbon that were hailing down, effectively dispersing the attack. The remaining sand and rock sped straight through the girl's position, but to the lead Iwa ninja's surprise, she was no longer there.

Casting a quick genjutsu to conceal her position, the girl watched the contingent of Iwa nin dispassionately from her perch on the wall of Sunagakure._ For fully trained ninja, they're certainly pretty weak_, she thought to herself.

Finally, the brighter one of the four ninja noticed an abnormality with the chakra flow. "Kai!" He screamed, and the girl watched emotionlessly as her genjutsu fractured and broke, reminiscent of a shattered mirror. Sighing, she dropped from the wall back to the ground with the gracefulness of a cat.

The first Iwa nin leaped at her, hurling a barrage of kunai. Calmly, the girl sent a rain of senbon in reply while expertly dodging the kunai. To her surprise, however, the last of the kunai that hurtled past her promptly exploded into fine sand that shrouded the area. "_Ninpo: Dust Tornado!_" She heard one of the nin shout, and realizing the danger of her position, she promptly leaped out of the cloud of dust.

Sure enough, the dust coagulated and formed an enormous twisting tornado that bore down on her position. Quickly, she located the ninja who was maintaining the jutsu, and sent two senbon that headed straight for his throat. She didn't even glance as the ninja, unable to dodge for maintains his jutsu, died with a gurgle as a small stream of blood leaked from the punctures on his throat. He died choking on his own blood.

As the dust tornado dispersed the girl cursed under her breath. _Curse this_, she thought vehemently as she bounded towards the remaining three enraged Iwa nin,_ I didn't kill him fast enough_.

And indeed she was right.

—

A few moments earlier, a few hundred meters away, a Suna chunnin guarding the gate was alerted by a massive column of dust rising a good hundred meters into the sky. It lasted only a few seconds before dispersing, but by the way the air felt thick and heavy and fairly pulsed with chakra from the tornado jutsu, it obviously wasn't a normal battle.

"Mariku! Get your ass down here and send for backup while you're at it!" The shinobi Mariku bounded down from one of the higher outposts after sounding the alarm, landing next to the older chunnin. "

You called?" He asked rather foolishly.

"Damn straight I called, you idiot! Someone's been fighting a bloody battle under our own Kami-forsaken noses for Kami knows how long! Come on, get moving! Gotta send those people packing first!"

—

The girl grumbled to herself as she heard six sets of rapidly approaching feet coming from the direction of the village. She shot a highly concentrated barrage of senbon at the leftmost of the three remaining Iwa nin, before forming a series of hand seals in rapid succession. "_Futon: Wind Tunnel Jutsu!_" She announced, cupping her hands around her mouth.

She opened her mouth and a jet stream of wind streamed past, heading directly towards the senbon barrage she shot earlier, propelling the senbon to even greater speeds. The Iwa nin only had time to put up a hastily constructed earth wall before the wave of senbon struck. The girl nodded once, curtly, satisfied.

If the piercing screams from behind the earth wall were anything to judge by, she'd say that some of her senbon had penetrated the weak defense and immobilized at least another enemy. Just as well, she thought, because here comes the Suna nins. Just great.

Indeed just after she thought this, six figures burst into view to her right side, opposite to the Iwa nins. One of the Suna nin, presumably the leader, stopped short at the sight before him.

"What in hell?!" He exclaimed, surveying the battlefield: entire dunes of sand had been displaced due to the girl's wind tunnel jutsu, and in another place the sand was piled into a huge spiral, courtesy of the dust tornado. Scattered senbon and kunai littered the scene, and to top it off, the injured Iwa nin lay screaming for his dear mother behind his crumbling earth defense, both his hands pierced through with senbon and dripping blood.

There were a few moments of absolutes silence on the battlefield, except for the Iwa nin's tortured screams. Then the head of the Suna squad seemed to have gotten his act together, and finally ordered: "Attack!" The Suna nin surged forward, half heading to the two remaining mobile Iwa nins and half towards the girl, who all this time had yet to say a word out loud.

The two remaining active Iwa nin were the first to react, leaping rather haphazardly over the wind scythe that the leading Suna shinobi sent their way. Unwilling to abandon mission, they converged on the girl, who was expertly dodging her Suna foe's kunai strikes while sending a flood of senbon towards the disabled Iwa nin. The girl frowned as the other two Iwa nin closed in, followed by the other three Suna shinobi. She let out a small sigh, realizing that the battle was growing far too messy for her taste. Suddenly, a scream to her right caused her frown to vanish, replaced by a small, satisfied smile:another one down.

The other two Iwa nin screamed in fury when they saw another one of their companions die at the still-unarmed girl's hands. Snarling, the first Iwa nin bore down on the girl and her Suna opponent with a kunai, intending to slaughter them both. However, he did not expect the other two Suna shinobi, who were originally assisting the girl's foe, to attack him. A double blast of shearing wind sent him tumbling to the ground, covered with thousands of long, deep scratches, and thus immobilizing him. His infuriated companion launched a barrage of boulders, but the girl and her three suna opponents all dodged out of the way.

The three Suna shinobi who had been pursuing the Iwa nin each sent a barrage of kunai that effectively boxing the Iwa nin, limiting his movements and resulting in a kunai embedding itself into both his right shoulder and his lower back. Twin spurts of blood shot forth, and the Iwa nin fell with a scream. However, it seemed he was still alive. For the time being.

The six Suna shinobi, having dispatched all other enemies, gathered warily around the girl. She neatly dodged the wind shear techniques, flipping over a kunai strike and somersaulting over a katana. She kicked the two slowest Suna shinobi in the chests, leaving them both winded and gasping for breath. She considered killing them both with her senbon right there, but four kunai strikes in rapid succession changed her mind.

She leapt up over all four strikes and kicked a man in the head in the process, making him stumble and fall drunkenly to the ground, nursing a pounding headache. The girl allowed herself a small smile at this. However, the Suna shinobi looked at each other, and one of them threw an avalanche of kunai and the other two followed up with wind shears. The girl did not expect this kind of unorthodox attack, and dodged a little too late. A streaking kunai nicked the her sleeve, tearing a small gash in its wake. However, no skin was hurt.

There was a moment of perfect silence as the girl landed. The three still battle worthy Suna shinobi heard a soft, almost audible sigh.

Then the girl deliberately reached into her weapons pouch and pulled out a series of slightly tinted senbon. All of a sudden, she threw the senbon into the air, forming a somewhat rectangular senbon field in the air. "_Futon: Flower Jutsu!_" She announced, and the wall of senbon, animated by the wall of wind pushing behind them, shot towards the three Suna shinobi, who almost lazily dodged the barrage.

One of the three sneered at the girl and was about to make a witty remark when the previously orderly wall suddenly exploded outward, sending the senbon arching up into the sky, spreading out perfectly to span a vast area like a rain cloud. The senbon arched towards earth, eliminating the three suna shinobi's dodging space due its vast area coverage. With a sharp zing, the senbon shot towards the earth, and two of the three Suna shinobi gurgled and died on the spot as the senbon lodged in their brain and junglar respectively.

The remaining mobile suna shinobi stared disbelievingly at the mere scratch in his hand, before turning to the girl with a mocking smile. "Well, what are you going to do now?" He jeered at the girl. To his surprise, the girl merely gave a nonchalant shrug.

Suddenly, his knees felt weak, and he collapsed to the ground, convulsions already seizing him. "P-poison?" he stammered out as he shuddered and gasped for breath. It only took him five long agonizing seconds to die.

Turning her head away from her defeated opponents, the girl gazed steadily at the three remaining suna shinobi. One was still reeling from his concussion that he received when she kicked him in the head, and the other two were one the ground, painfully wheezing as they tried to breath despite their broken ribs. She gave them all an indifferent once over and, her decision made, lazily tossed a regular senbon into each of their throats, ending their misery.

—

The air was stanched with the smell of death as the corpses of the Iwa and Suna nins lay unmoving, their bodies forfeited to death. The girl stood there, staring into their unseeing milky eyes, showing no sign of remorse.

Then ever so gently, she placed a flower on each body of the deceased. The drooping pearlescent petals were stained crimson by the blood that trickled down from their mouths. There was a solemnity that hung in the air, a delicate silence that would shatter with a single movement.

A robed figure stood not too far from the massacre. All but his eyes were covered by a cashmere veil and a white triangular hat accented with blue that shadowed, again, the only visible facial feature: a pair of slanted eyes. Curiosity and amusement danced in those shifty eyes as he watched the girl stand over the carcasses of his own shinobi. Seeing her place the snowdrops on the Suna and Iwa nins with the care of a mother tucking in her child at night, he gasped silently, both shocked and pleased by the turn of events and his own luck.

_The neat, methodical style, the shape of those petals, the droop of the stem—no, it couldn't be, she is not much older than a mere child. But yet all the evidence is there. The notorious shinobi told through hushed whispers during a chilly night..._

Overcoming his initial surprise, the figure began to make his way towards the girl in a slow, measured pace. The girl saw him approaching, but made no attempt to move. she stood her ground. Raising her eyes to meet his, he was startled to see a fathomless viridian displaying no sign of fear or anger but of an almost hypnotic sense of tranquility. It was as if she could see right through his flesh and straight into his soul.

Now, as a Kazekage who has interacted with multitudes from many walks of life, few had the ability to instill such uneasiness in him (he could count the number on his left hand). But this girl was definitely an exception. Whereas most would cower and grovel in front of him, the way she held herself in front of him conveyed that she regarded him as an equal, if not slightly inferior.

Setting aside his reservations, he began in a cool, detached tone. "That was quite the match. Killing ten shinobi, all of whom are twice, if not three times your age, is remarkable indeed."

The girl raised an arched brow, "I'm sure you didn't take the trouble to come here and praise me for my skills. There must something you want. Do tell. Time waits for no one."

The Kazekage chuckled, amused by the kunoichi's brusque reply. "My, aren't you sharp? Very well then, follow me, we must discuss this matter further. Come." He began to walk towards the village entrance wedged in a crevice between the sand fortifications. He stopped as an afterthought struck him. Glancing over his shoulder, he remarked in a casual tone laced with underlying malice, "I believe you are in no position to refuse." The girl stared back impassively for a few moments. Then she gave a nonchalant shrug and proceeded after him. The Wind Shadow stopped a second time and announced in a loud voice resonating with authority, "And to all of you here, this skirmish never happened. If I hear so much a word about today's events, well, you can enjoy a complimentary sand bath." With that, he strolled towards the village, walking in a manner that seemed as if he owned the place, which he technically did, with the kunoichi trailing him with a dignified grace.

—

Walking through the bustling streets of Suna did attract many pairs of curious eyes upon the girl, some going as far as to openly gawk at her with hanging jaws. The multitudes of people made way for their almighty leader like the Red Sea parting before Moses. It wasn't every day their leader was seen ambling through the crowded streets like nobody's business. And it surely wasn't every day did they see a girl with the audacity to walk directly behind their esteemed leader with an aloofness that rivaled the most arrogant of royalty, not to mention her peculiar attire—white robes and a green obi did not exactly blend in well with the Suna natives. Also, a lateral facing hitai-ate tied at the thigh did nothing to reveal the origin of its wearer. Slung across the shoulder was a green leather pouch, most likely containing weapons and traveling fare.

Against the neutral attire of people worn in Suna, she stood out like a nugget of gleaming gold in a sea of mundane pebbles. Either she failed to notice this or deemed it too insignificant to place on her mind. Most likely, it was the latter.

As they were passing through the marketplace, the girl couldn't help but notice the liveliness of the place: vendors hawking their wares, buyers haggling with merchants, the aroma of freshly baked pastries drifting through the air, and traders displaying their exotic goods brought from foreign lands. The place was bursting with life.

Making her way through the otherwise cramped avenues (thank kami for the Kazekage: he made way through the thickets of people like a hot knife through butter), they arrived at the large bulbous building the girl had seen earlier. The Kazekage gave the two guards standing by the entrance a curt nod and proceeded briskly inside. The girl did likewise, except she did nothing to acknowledge the presence of the guards. They made their way upwards, climbing several flights of stairs and countless winding passages. Along the way, they were stopped multiple times by councilors, attendants, or anyone in the bureaucratic hierarchy who required attention from the Kazekage. For the most part, they ignored the girl, dismissing her as some negligible entity. If only they knew what had taken place outside the village gates, they wouldn't be disregarding her so easily. But she didn't mind, it wasn't like she gave a hoot about them either. As there was always an exception to the rule, one councilman did push her buttons. He was a skinny thing, with bags of sagging skin and a withered excuse for a face. Apparently nature had not been kind enough to grant him the departure from this life.

He sauntered over to the two with a haughty air that suggested he was of a lofty position. Without even greeting the Kage, he began in a slow, presumptuous drawl. "Kazekage-sama, have you taken a look at the documents waiting to be passed? The council is meeting this afternoon to examine the issues presented. I hope you are prepared because the council members will be debating the technicalities of the Gold Dust trade. And also, my fellow council members and I were very surprised at the unannounced arrival of an ambassador from Takigakure this evening. How is the council supposed to take care of these affairs on such short notice?" He paused, then continued in a grumbling tone, "Young people these days, they have no forethought; they do everything on the spur of the moment and hope that everything will be fine. This probably explains why Suna is dead last in terms of military, economic, and population."

As much as the Kazekage would have liked to strangle the council member right then and there, he refrained from doing so and plastered a strained, courteous smile on to his face. The council member was his elder after all. By a lot. "Yes, I understand. I will look at the documents by this afternoon and I will review it with the council. Pertaining to the Takigakure ambassador, I had given the responsibility over to my secretary to alert the council members, but I am also surprised that she has not contacted you earlier. For that, I apologize. Now if you'll excuse me, I have other items of business to attend to." The Kazekage attempted to sidestep the meddlesome man, but he found himself staring into the almost decaying face of the council member. Needless to say, it wasn't a very pleasant sight.

For the first time in three minutes, the elder takes notice of the lithe figure behind the Kazekage. Peering to focus his milky eyes, he inspected the girl as if she was some specimen under a microscope. The feeling was rather disconcerting even for her.

Completing his initial judgement, he again initiated the conversation with a pompous flourish. "What do we have here?" He then added rhetorically,"A little girl. If you're lost, I can find someone to show you the way out. The Kazekage tower is a very big place after all. Go on, run home. I'm sure your parents are extremely worried."

The look on the her face was absolutely murderous.

The Kazekage, fearing for his imminent health, hastily remarked, "Yes, yes, now we must go. There are much matter at hand to be dealt with." He motioned for the girl to follow, and she reluctantly consented, but not before fixing the elderly man with a stare so hateful it could have burned through sheets of solid steel with more ease than the most potent of acids.

Much to the Kazekage's dismay, his plans were foiled again as understanding hit the other man like a cart full of bricks dropped from a height of about fifty meters. The enlightenment shocked him to the extent that he was unable to form cohesive thoughts. He sputtered, livid from outrage, "K-Kazekage sama, by matters, y-you don't m-mean this g-girl, right? Why, s-she is only a child. What does someone of your standing want to do with a lowlife like her? Surely this must be a mistake. A simple misunderstanding, that's all." To the casual observer, the man appeared to be trying to convince himself more so than his superior. The human psyche finds repetition ensures reassurance just as an individual seeks safety in numbers. The theory proved true as the man repeated for the third (or was it the fifth) time that the logic of the situation did not hold. "Right, that must be it, a simple error resulting from confu—" The man was not able to complete his tirade since an arc of senbons embedded themselves in the wall not twenty centimeters behind the council member's head.

The astonishment inscribed on the man's face was priceless.

Stalking up to the now quivering man with the dangerous air of a predator that was about to pounce on its prey, the girl fixed her eyes on the man. He was surprised to see the absence of anger or any emotion for that matter. Her eyes were devoid of life like he was staring into the eyes of a corpse rather than a living girl, and in them, reflected back at him was his own horrified face. Those eyes, they held neither the joy nor the innocence of childhood. Instead, they revealed her already weary response to the world. It terrified him to the deepest pits of hell.

In a soft, lilting voice, she whispered into the ear of the man, "Appearances can be deceiving. They usually are, given the line of our profession. I thought someone like you, especially someone of your position, would know that best. But it seems that I am mistaken. How disappointing." She pulled back and began to walk away with leisure ease, leaving the older man, rooted to the ground, petrified by her words. The Kazekage quickly followed suit, shooting the him a look of pity and mild disgust as he hurried by.

Right as she was about to turn a corner, she stopped, and as a final jab, remarked, "There were fifty seven ways I could have incapacitated you with senbons of which forty six of those would maim you and sixty three ways I could have killed you. And so, there were exactly three thousand five hundred and ninety one combinations to injure and kill you. And that's through using senbons alone. Strangling you would have added around another seventy possibilities. Be careful who you belittle because it could very well result in a kunai between your ribs." With a decisive air, she gave an imperial sniff and rounded the corner.

—

Once they were in his office, the Kazekage sat down behind his desk, folding his hands on the desk in a businesslike manner.

"I must admit," he began, "I did not expect the infamous Sairen to be a child."

"With all due respect, Kazekage-sama, I believe I have already stated to that imbecile out in the hall that appearances can be deceiving." The girl replied, perfectly echoing the Kazekage's professional tone, although she did frown as she mentioned the hallway incident.

"Indeed," the Kazekage smiled, "you are exceptionally skilled for your age. However, you have killed my men, and I think it is natural that I demand some sort of compensation."

The girl met his gaze unperturbed, and she maintained a calm, steady silence.

"No need to worry," the Kazekage sighed at last, after a minute of fruitless staring between the two,"I'm sure that even with this, predicament, we can come to some sort of consensus."

"They are simply wastes of air." The girl declared suddenly, "Only the strong are fit to live in this world. All those who are weak and do not train enough to become strong should not be fit to live in the shinobi world."

The Kazekage was taken aback by this sudden proclamation, but then he smiled and said, "I am in agreement to that statement, Sairen-san, which is why I'm offering you a deal and not demanding that you pay me back for the lives of those men."

The girl considered the situation for a moment, and at last gave an agreeable nod. "State your terms."

The Kazekage grinned slightly. "Then I will get straight to the point. If you stay in Suna, I can offer you protection from the forces who are after you, and at the same time, not force you to pay for the lives of those six men. I will make up an excuse for their deaths. However, in return for the favors I'm doing you, you will offer your services to me, and I will send you out on missions and other affairs that I deem appropriate."

A slight frown creased the girl's features. "Kazekage-sama, I will have you understand that I am no commoner and have no trouble fending off whatever ANBU or mercenaries they send after me. Furthermore, I do not care for the lives of those six men, and you have just said you agreed with me, therefore I should not be required to pay at all. Thus, I see that you have proposed an offer that provides me with nothing that I don't already have, while you have everything to gain. Am I correct in assuming so?"

The Kazekage's eyebrow twitched at these words, and his grin faded into a dark frown. "Sairen-san, I am not saying for a moment that I doubt your power, and I am offering you stability in your protection. And while I do agree with you personally, as Kage, I'm expected to have something done to the one responsible for my shinobi's deaths, which will affect you most definitely. Besides, there is nothing in the missions and errands I will send you on that you will have trouble with. It will just be like everyday of your current life—"

"Which I think I like much better than this new way of living it." The girl interrupted smoothly, though her face now showed a light, disapproving frown.

The Kazekage's frown, in turn, deepened. "You want me to pursue charges?!" He demanded, "Because you know very well that I can, and I refuse to have a shinobi of your stature come and go, taking six souls with you and leaving nothing! You will stay in Suna, or pay the consequences!"

The girl sniffed. "How pathetic, that the mighty Kazekage-sama would resort to blackmail and empty threats instead of solving this the true shinobi way. What will, no, what can you do if I wanted to go?"

The Kazekage stood abruptly, his face cloaked in shadow. "Don't test my patience, little girl." He snarled, clenching his fists. The girl immediately went into semi-battle stance, ready to dodge or block the imminent attack—

—that never came.

The Kazekage sighed, and sat back down in his chair, rubbing his forehead tiredly with a rather sheepish grin. "Ah, I apologize for losing my temper, Sairen-san. You are correct, of course, that you do not need my protection. And you are also correct, that those men's lives mean naught to me. However, I'm sure that if I formally employed you into Suna's shinobi forces, including a full out ANBU salary and free board, you would be willing to accept?"

A small small flickered across the girl's face, and she nodded once.

"It is done then." The Kazekage stood from his desk and held his hand out to the girl. The girl walked over and shook it once, sealing their deal. "I will draw up the necessary paperwork and arrange your quarters immediately. Meanwhile, why don't you familiarize yourself, Sairen-san? You're going to be here for a while, at least."

The girl rose out of her seat, appearing satisfied with the negotiated terms and conditions. She turned around and began to head for the door for departure from this wretched place and its perverse inhabitant. But then again, the deal was mutually beneficial: Suna would get what they wanted, that is, the destruction of Konoha, and she gets her head securely attached to her shoulders and a place to stay. It seems like she received the better end of the deal.

Logic. It deceives even the most brilliant of minds.

As her hand rested on the ornate silver handle, she stopped as a thought struck her. In a offhandedly tone she remarked, "Permission to eliminate?" The Kazekage let out a chuckle. So she did have a sense of humor after all albeit a very twisted one at that. Unfortunately, the geezer did come in handy when it came to dealing with international politics. Such a shame.

"Permission denied," he responded flatly. An expression almost akin to disappointment washed faintly across her face. Needless to say, the room was currently occupied by two sadists.

"Wait," the Kazekage called, once more seated behind his desk, "is there a common name for you, Sairen-san? I mean, I can certainly put down your moniker as the household registration." He cracked a smile at his own joke.

The kunoichi raised an eyebrow, slightly put off by the Kage's blunt humor, but answered it nevertheless. "Names," she began, "are not important. They are just tools for deception. All that matters is the upholding of the deal. I have many names, but for the sake of convenience, I suppose you may call me Miyuki."

"Miyuki, huh." Silent snow. The name had a nice ring to it, rolling smoothly off the Kazekage's tongue. Oddly enough, the seemingly innocent and simple name was associated with that of a serial killer. The world is a twisted, twisted place.

When she opened the door, Miyuki was faced with the fearful faces of two Suna escorts. She, slightly annoyed with the incompetency of the recently-made chunins, stepped around them and proceeded down one of the never-ending hallways. With shaking knees, they followed the girl at a respectable distance.

The Kazekage, not able to resist one last stinging remark at the kunoichi, called after her, "Those chunins are to act as a guide for navigating around Suna. It _is_ a big place, you know. It would be most troublesome if you were lost." He inwardly smiled to himself, satisfied with his snub. Little did he know that later maintenance would report of a mysterious plate sized depression ornamenting the wall.

—

Passing through rows of nearly identical spherical dwellings, the trio stopped in front of a tiny house tucked away in an obscure alleyway. It was much smaller than the ones she has previously seen, and compared to the Kazekage's place… well, it wouldn't be appropriate to make that comparison. But for something that was free, it wasn't too shabby.

One of the chunins, a brown haired boy of about fifteen years, shoved his hand into his pocket, looking for the keys the Kazekage had given him earlier. When he found that they weren't there, he panicked, patting down all eighteen pockets on his flak jacket in a frantic fashion and searching through his kunai holster although why he would place the keys there was a mystery in itself.

His companion noticed and one look at the panic scribbled on his friend's face told him that the worst case scenario had occurred: he had lost the keys.

"Ryouichi, you idiot, don't tell me you lost the keys," he asked while repeatedly smacking the said person's head.

"That's not possible, I'm sure had it when we left the Kazekage's place," the poor thing responded between each blow.

"Sure my ass," his companion responded, not appearing convinced, "Thanks to your stupid idiocy, I'm gonna start out my chunin career with a failed mission."

"Oh please, Daichi, you've always failed most of your missions, even the cat-retrieving ones. It's not like this one will make any difference." Ryouichi snorted at his friend's stupidity. "It's a surprise you aren't dead by now."

"Like you should be talking," Daichi shot back, "you've managed to break the record for the most D-rank missions failed. The record hasn't been broken in the last forty years or so. It takes skill," he paused for effect, "to fail that much."

While the two chunins were bickering like petulant four year olds, Miyuki stood off to the side, amused by the childish insults hurled at each other. Ryouichi was right, how did both of them manage to survive that long? From where she came from, both of them would have been dead on the first day, most likely before lunch.

And what was it with the swearing? Was it in fashion for fifteen year old boys (heck, they _certainly_ weren't men; Suna isn't sinking_ that_ low, is it?) to throw out words relating to the human reproductive system every other sentence?

"Oh, you can go fuc—"

"Were you looking for this?" Miyuki held up the object the two boys had initially argued about. The intense sunlight bounced off the silver surface, scattering spots of light at many angles.

"Wha— How did you get this?" Ryouichi asked, momentarily forgetting his fear of the girl due to the curiosity of how she was able to snatch the keys off him without his notice.

Miyuki suppressed an urge to roll her eyes. These chunins were truly hopeless. In an overly patient tone, she explained, "I'm a ninja. I think that's an adequate explanation. And this," she said, slightly jingling the keys, "I obtained while you were busy staring at female physiques."

Red hot embarrassment flushed through the boy's face, and his friend did nothing to help it. In fact, he made it worse.

"See? Even she notices you checking out those girls. You're so gonna get lai—" Daichi taunted in a singsong tone before two senbons sent him flying back, pinning him to the scratchy sand wall.

Strolling over to the chunin who was currently yelping in surprise, she remarked, "Didn't I already mention my occupation as a ninja? I don't appreciate the derision of my observation skills."

With that, she walked past the now incapacitated Daichi and the equally surprised Ryouichi (who was attempting but alas, failing, to free his friend), unlocked the door, and disappeared into her newly obtained residence.

* * *

**Beta by Drops of Azure**

**Footnotes:**

Sairen (サイレン): the Japanese rendition of siren, a reference to the horror survival video game Forbidden Siren


	2. Chapter 2

二

The residence was, to say at the very least, small. A compact kitchen containing a single burner occupied one corner and a simple table with a chair was placed in the middle of the otherwise barren room, serving as a dining area. Two doors off to the side lead to the bathroom and the bedroom respectively, and were, once again, small and rather meager. Glancing around the room, everything was in a color scheme composed of muted shades of brown, beige, and tan. Apparently the Kazekage couldn't be bothered with spending a few thousand ryos to fix up the place. Such negligence reflected the economic situation of Suna.

Sighing at the lousy conditions, she plopped down on the chair and began pondering about ways she could liven up the space. First item of business was the near monochromatic color scheme had to go. Sure, it made the place feel cozy but it caused her to feel suffocated, and people should not feel that way in their own home. So that was that. Simplicity was nice, but the sparse provisions by the Kazekage proved to be too scarce . Although the lack of clutter was appreciated, the room felt too simplistic in its design, almost radiating a sense of hostility. Perhaps more furniture would lessen the loneliness. Recalling the exotic flowers she had seen while walking through the marketplace, she made a mental note to revisit the place sometime soon. Those mariposa lilies would make an attractive center. The funds she received from her last job should be more than enough to cover the costs...

What was she thinking? A feared shinobi such as herself should not be daydreaming about decorating her house like a five year old child. No, she should be outside training, perfecting her already near perfect art of capturing and killing. And here she was, mulling over as to whether she should paint the room turquoise or teal. Such thoughts are inappropriate for a shinobi. What would her sensei say?

She froze.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. Those thoughts should be tucked into an obscure crevice at the back of her mind, out of sight and out of mind. If she didn't think about it, then it never existed. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but yield to the rising surge of thoughts and emotions tangled into a giant, messy ball.

Her eyes glazed over in pain as she recollected the memories of her beloved teacher. Her sensei was the one who saved her from hell, the one who was filled with intoxicating fragrances and coy laughter. She had been the one to take her in when everyone else regarded her as trash that was best left to die. She was the one who trained her to live by the shinobi code, placing everything else – even the lives of comrades – on the line to ensure the success of a mission. But in the end, she was the one who broke that very rule. The silver flashes of metal, the flurry of limbs, and her sensei's blood streaked face screaming at her in desperation to get away.

It has been two weeks, hasn't it?

It was amazing how the human brain had the ability to retain such acute pain after a period of two weeks. She had originally figured the pain would subside after a few days, but she couldn't be more wrong. At first, it was only a dull sensation, her brain unable to register the shock and trauma of the incident. Then, like a festered wound, the pent-up sorrow broke through the surface, and raw anguish consumed her whole. Even now, throbs of grief would remind her of the horrific event whenever thoughts of her sensei floated to the crests of her ever tumultuous thoughts.

Psychology was one sick bastard.

_Kill all emotions. Emotions make a shinobi weak. Shinobi are emotionless tools. To become a shinobi, one must remove all emotions._She repeated the mantra like a lifeline, something she could latch on to, anchoring her so the waves wouldn't sweep her away.

When she had deemed herself sufficiently calmed down, Miyuki sat there, her mind blank in fear of any thought that would trigger a mental meltdown. Ironically, the emotionless kunoichi was not as emotionless as everyone thought. But that was a secret that she would take with her to the grave.

After a few minutes of immersing herself in a self-induced trance, the kunoichi stood up, wincing as a senbon poked her arm. Right, some of the needles were misplaced from the fight earlier and were now causing her mild discomfort, and she was only feeling it now as a testament to how preoccupied she was.

Throwing her robe and obi on the table, she proceeded to grab senbons from her mesh under armor by the handful. First, the needles had to be sorted into two piles: usable and unusable. Some senbons had their ends so badly bent that they were no longer usable and had to be discarded. Then, the remaining senbons were to be sorted by use. Surprisingly, the number of senbon variations, which was based on use, was on par with that of a kunai or shuriken. Types included the basic type, thin metal needles for capturing and killing, ones with a hollow interior to inject poison, ones with specially coated ends to increase the potency of the dipped poison, ones that were able to shoot chakra into opponents, weighted needles that allowed for more control and precision especially when aiming at awkward angles, and heavy duty needles with extra durability for repeated uses with wind jutsus. Such was the versatility and flexibility of senbons, which many ninjas, believing they were above throwing flimsy needles, overlooked. Also, the needles were lightweight, making them easy to carry, and they made no sound when thrown, ideal for assassination.

After the needles were sorted and placed back on the armor in quivers, she took a quick glance at the lone window in the place. From the position of the sun, it was midafternoon, and the heat was almost unbearable. Like a viscous liquid, it oozed under the door crack and into the room, turning the air into a hot and nearly unbreathable syrup. Deciding the conditions of the current situation wouldn't suffice to do anything productive, Miyuki treaded over to the bedroom, laid down, and promptly fell asleep.

—

She woke with a start. It was already late afternoon, and the sun was nearing the horizon, casting a warm golden glow through the window. She hadn't slept for that long, right? It was only two or three hours, but it was the most consecutive hours of sleep she had in the past week, with the whole fiasco with the Iwa nins and all.

Springing on to her feet, she donned her robe and tied her obi in one fluid motion, slung the pouch on her shoulder, and stepped out the door.

Compared to the scene she saw with the Kazekage, many more people were out around this time. The temperature has cooled down substantially, and the air was no longer thick and unbearable although it was still quite hot. However, along with the increase of the number of people, also came the business of the streets. Vendors were promoting their wares and delivery boys were rushing through the streets and shoving aside anyone who was in their path.

_So this is the rush hour in Suna_, she thought to herself, _such an interesting sight_. _I haven't seen this in Iwa_.It was cold and austere, with everybody minding their own business. Neighbors wouldn't greet each other. Suna was indeed strange. _And is that… scorpion on a stick…?_

As she was gazing at the impaled arachnid, a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Care to try one? They're Suna's specialty, fried to a fine crisp. You can't get them anywhere else," offered a mid-age man wearing a brown apron and a slightly lopsided chef's hat. She didn't look like a native; her skin was too pale for a life under the harsh sun. But thinking back, there were exceptions, the most prominent one being that monster, the Kazekage's youngest child. But what was he doing? He mentally scolded himself for comparing a sweet faced young girl to a bloodthirsty demon. They were nothing alike.

She quickly declined by noting her distaste for crunchy things, and he couldn't really blame her—the legs did have a tendency to get stuck between teeth, something the foreigners really didn't appreciate. After one last glance at the odd spectacle, she took off into the crowd, with her green pouch swinging from her shoulder.

Walking on, Miyuki happened to come across a few peculiarities, but none of them came close to the scorpion kebab. Having left the marketplace, she was now in the shopping district, full of textiles in an array of colors and textures. The dominant fabric was silk, which was no surprise, given its light weight and the ventilation it provided. No wonder the natives adored this fabric—it was ideal for the arid environment and it was easy to dye into a whole spectrum of hues but is still able to maintain its shimmer.

"Would you like to take a look at our newly arrived habutai silk? They just arrived this morning."

Realizing the question was directed at her, Miyuki turned around and found herself looking at the face of a smiling girl, who was not much older than herself.

"Habutai silk?" she inquired, curious.

"Yes, habutai silk is downy and soft, perfect for yukatas. Say, I'll let you take a look at our summer collection and if you like one, I'll give it to you for half the price to wear for tonight's hanabi festival." The girl explained, the smile still present on her face. Then she signaled for Miyuki to follow her into the shop.

The store was dimly lit as direct light would cause the dyes to fade. Bolts of fabric in every hue imaginable lined the walls, and scraps of leftover fabric littered the ground. While the girl tramped over fabric like it was nothing, Miyuki stepped around them gingerly because there's always a chance of exploding weapons hidden under the piles of cloth. One of the side effects of being a shinobi is paranoia.

"Sorry," the girl sheepishly scratched her head, "we don't have many customers because most people prefer to shop at the bigger chain retail stores. The yukatas are machine-made so they're less expensive but the quality of the fabric is poor. It tears easily and the color fades fast." She wrinkled her nose, displaying her obvious dislike for her cheap competitors. "You know what they say, quality comes with a price, but I'm giving you the yukata for half of what it's actually worth so consider yourself lucky. Oh, Mom hand makes these yukatas, so all those models you see are made by her."

The kunoichi notes that some of the garments were definitely exquisite, crafted by a master's hand, but the sleeves on a few placed near the back had uneven cuts.

The other girl noticed where the kunoichi was looking, and explained in an embarrassed voice, "Okay, so Mom makes almost all of those. The ones you're looking at right now were my first prototypes made a couple years back. Mom cut them out, but back then, my sewing was horrible, so that's why the sleeves are crooked. But I swear," she announced in a loud voice, "I've gotten much better. Since Dad died on a shinobi mission, this is the only way I can help Mom keep a roof over our heads and food on the table – although nowadays, nobody really comes by our shop anymore."

Miyuki nodded absently, and silence settled over the two, muting the din of the street. So the cheery front was just a façade, a mask for her broken self to hide behind as she dealt with the outside world. It was quite convincing, the alacrity of her chatter, the smile she plastered on to her face could convince anyone that she was the happiest girl alive. However, the mask would last only so long before it crumbles, and when it did, it would drag the girl along with it to oblivion, that was, if she couldn't acknowledge herself and move on. But she should consider herself lucky; at least someone cared about her. Both of the kunoichi's parents were dead a long time ago due to a tragic accident, and Sensei, although she was sometimes cold and aloof, was the only one she had. And now she was gone as well.

"Miku, I didn't know we had a customer." A weary looking woman holding a swatch of fabric appeared in the doorway that lead to the back half of the shop. "Well, dear, what can I do for you today?"

Miku answered for the kunoichi. "Mom, I told her that I'm gonna give her one of your yukatas to her for half price." At the woman's questioning glance, she explained quickly, "You know, for the hanabi festival tonight."

"Ahh... I see, no girl should attend a hanabi festival without a lovely yukata. If you'll follow me to the back, I'm sure we'll find something to your taste." The woman turned around and Miyuki did likewise.

If humanly possible, the rear was even more littered than the front. Sheets of fabric draped over every surface visible to the eye, spools of tangled thread ran untamed, and sketches of hastily scrawled diagrams with measurements and ratios graced many spots with their faded yellow tone. In short, the room was messy.

"So, dear, anything that catches your eye?" The woman gestured to the yukata-wearing mannequins, placed at various loci in the room.

She eyed the garments, and although a few were made with attractive fabrics, none really sparked her interest. Though a few alterations were made here and there, the general contour was the same: a triangular torso that tapered down to a straight tubelike skirt.

"Do you have anything in your possession that's less...constricting? Is it possible for the skirt to be more free form in shape and ease of movement for the legs?"

The woman's brows furrowed in concentration. An odd request. It was in fashion for girls to wear form fitting yukatas to show off their figure, but here was a girl, asking for just the opposite. _This must be her way of rebelling against society. Kids these days._

"Ah, yes. I do remember I had designed something that fits your description a while ago. It's in one of those large storage boxes you see over there." She proceeded to one of the large iron chests sitting in a nearly forgotten corner.

After heaving the top open with much effort, she scavenged through the piles of clothing, her hands flying through the pieces of fabric to locate the one she desired to display.

"I'm sure it's in here somewhere," came a slightly muffled mutter. "I saw it when I was reorganizing some things two months ago." More sounds of scuffling were heard as pieces of floral clothing hurled through the air.

"Let's see...found it!" The woman held up a turquoise yukata with deeper teal accents. "What do you think? I must say, it's a bit long. How about I hem the edges a bit for you?"

After scrutinizing the garment with intense concentration, the kunoichi nodded, satisfied with the design. "This is acceptable. I will purchase it. And no, the length is fine. I will not burden you with the task of hemming the apparel. But do you by any chance have fabric of the same shade? I plan to make some minor alterations to it."

_Minor alterations? Can't she just take it to a tailor or something? Such a strange girl. _

_"_Yes, I'll retrieve the fabric for you. I'll be right back." The woman disappeared into a side room which no doubt, contained stocked supplies. That left Miyuki and Miku in the room.

A momentary silence followed, and then was broken by the kunoichi.

"Do you resent shinobis?"

The other girl, taken aback by the straightforward question, replied with hesitation, "N-no, not really."

Intrigued by the atypical response, she inquired further, "How can you not hate them for taking your father away? Do you not seek revenge?"

The girl's took on a slightly bewildered expression. "Why would I do that?"

Miyuki wanted to laugh. How could the other girl not have considered revenge? The duties of a shinobi took her father away and sank her and her mother into this little pit of financial depression. Didn't she at least feel some resentment towards shinobi? Or was she just too naive and chose not to blame anything for the death of her father? Surely she knew better than that...

"Besides," the other girl interrupted her thoughts, "what _could_ I possibly do? It's not Iike I could just waltz up to the Kazekage and demand him to return my father. As powerful as the he is, I doubt he has the ability to resurrect the dead."

"But why do you not hate ninjas?" Miyuki persisted. The conversation was heading in an unusual direction, and she was interested to find out the outcome.

Miku pursed her lips. Why was this girl asking such personal questions? Maybe she was just nosy, but then again, she didn't look like the type to stick her nose in other people's business. Still, she answered. "What will hatred solve? It won't bring back Dad and if I went around killing ninjas, a feat which I doubt I am able to perform, makes me worse of a person than those who killed my dad. As for revenge," she speculated, "it doesn't really solve anything. I mean, there is no satisfaction in revenge, only emptiness."

She was met with a contemplative silence.

"Hey, you're a shinobi, aren't you?" the girl eyed the kunoichi's hitai-ate.

Her response was interrupted by the woman's return, who carried a roll of the requested fabric under one arm.

Setting down the fabric, she turned to the kunoichi, who remained impassive, despite the restless thoughts churning in her mind. "Here, would this work?"

Comparing the fabric's shade with the yukata, she nodded, "Yes, thank you."

After paying the woman a considerable amount of money Miyuki was about to step out into the street when she remembered something. She paused, lingering on the threshold for a brief moment. "And to answer your question, yes. Yes I am." She then was swallowed by the throngs of people, leaving the other girl thoroughly confused. It was only moments later her eyes widened in understanding.

—

A few hundred meters down the road, the enticing scent of cookery drifted lazily through the air, beckoning all to taste the fine cuisine. It was then she realized she had not consumed actual food for the past two days, only surviving off of soldier pills. Naturally, she made her way to one of the many stalls that lined the street.

"What would you like to have today?" asked a man while expertly slicing radish into fine translucent pieces.

"One bowl of udon," came the reply.

"All right, one order of udon noodles coming right up!"

As he turned his back to cook the noodles, Miyuki noticed three girls conspicuously staring at her. She turned her head slightly to meet the scrutiny of the other girls, and they dropped their gazes, acting as if everything is normal and they hadn't been fixing their owlish stares on the other girl.

In hushed whispers, they began to chatter to each other, not minding the object of their gossip was less than two meters away.

"Did you see her?"

"Oh my god, her eyes, they're so creepy."

"It's like she's dead or something."

"Yeah, they're glassy and bug eyed. Freak."

The kunoichi sat there, giving no reaction to the fervent whispers of the other girls. If this was the puberty she had read about in her medical textbook, she would rather stick a heated kunai down her throat.

Their behavior was disgusting. Talking about her as if they knew the history of her entire existence. Such shallowness, judging her just at face value. They couldn't possibly understand her yet they were assessing her like she was some experiment. Horrid. Absolutely horrid.

Dead ninjas were worth more than them because at least they died without presuming to be her creator. Or if they had, well, they didn't last too long after that.

"Come on Sari, you're gonna make us late for the festival."

"Okay, okay, I'm coming."

The girls stood up from the stools, about to depart, their long and lustrous hair swishing behind them. Miyuki performed a few hand seals under the table. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards a few moments later as she heard the frantic screams of the girls whose hair was now knotted into a heap that was nearly impossible to untangle. Having a wind affinity chakra did have its perks.

"Sorry for the long wait, here is the udon you ordered."

After confirming the absence of poison, she began to dine on the chewy noodles, savoring the taste of real food. The soldier pills gave her energy, but they tasted like crap. Sheep crap, to be exact, not that she ever tasted ovine fecal matter.

Pausing midway through her meal, she asked about the event everyone mentioned today. "What's the hanabi festival? And why is there a near obsession with it?"

The man stopped what he was doing and answered, "My, you don't get out very much, do you?" Chuckling, he continued, "Well, it's a time to relax and celebrate and watch the fireworks, so that's why everyone is looking forward to it. In addition to the fireworks, there are also festivities in the streets. In fact, you can see them setting up right now." He pointed to a group of dancers warming up.

Her eyes narrowed in understanding. It was fascinating to see the perspective of things through the view of an ordinary civilian. To him, festivities meant a time of joy and merriment, filled with smiles and laughter. But in her world, festivities signified an opportunity to attack or a timely cover to carry out a mission while everyone was drunk on happiness. The disparity between the two was striking.

After finishing her meal and placing some ryos on the counter, she continued her wandering. The sky was nearly dark, with the last wisps of sunlight blending into the approaching lilac. The light was now hazy and long shadows trailed everything it could lay its dark hands upon.

Dusk. The intermittent period when the line blurred between day and night, having qualities of both converses. It's such a peculiar thing.

Lanterns were beginning to be lit, the warm orange glow dotting the streets, providing a sharp contrast with the nearing nightfall. The revelry was also beginning, the sounds of song and dance could be heard from great distances away.

She pushed her way through a crowd of people, and in the center was a girl clad in a colorful kimono, her feet stepping perfectly in rhythm with the fervent beat.

_Step step turn. Step step turn. Step step turn. One two three. One two three. One two three. One two three... _

When the dance was over, the girl bowed as the audience roared in applause. She then scurried away, the colorful silk fluttering behind her.

There was one person in the crowd that did not cheer for the performance. Her mind was in turmoil, struggling against the waves of nostalgia that threatened to overwhelm her. The dance had brought back some memories that were best left forgotten.

_That could have been me. I could have ended up like her_, she thought, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling. _Why does this place remind me so much of my past? The next thing I know, I'll see him here—no, that's not possible. I'm positive he died. According to the sources in Iwa, the evidence shows without a doubt that he's dead. If he's still alive, that would contradict everything the evidence suggested. Impossible. _

"The fireworks are about to begin," a young man told a girl who seemed to be his girlfriend.

"Then let's hurry or all the good spots will be taken," she replied, and the pair disappeared into the darkness.

The kunoichi didn't usually indulge in these frivolities due to the constant need to kill people, but considering there was no need for that at the moment and she has a rather tedious assignment in the imminent future, a little relaxation would be nice.

Deftly landing on one of the rooftops, she watched as brilliant bursts of color illuminated the night sky, flaming sparks showering down and then flicker out. It had a near hypnotizing effect, pulling the mind into a trancelike state. The colors blurred together like work of watercolor, each individual hue flowing seamlessly into another.

_Would things have progressed differently if I had stayed and fought? We were both dangerously on chakra, but maybe there was a chance we could have both made it out alive. What if we had accepted the proposal? That would have stopped the argument and prevented the ambush... But why couldn't he see all the potential pitfalls of the job? One wrong move and everything could collapse. Sensei was right in refusing it, but if it's tempting to consider the possibilities if we never met that man. Then everything would be fine. Sensei would still be alive, and he wouldn't be dead. They tracked us by noting our coinciding routes, and we were too off guard arguing amongst ourselves when they attacked. If we had only known. The possibilities..._

Her answer came in the form of the soft rustling of the sand shifting below, constant yet ever changing.

—

There were two letters on the table when she returned. One was addressed to her and the other remained unmarked. After checking for possible traps and finding none, she broke the seal on the scroll that was for her. She stood there, her eyes skimming the lines of text swiftly.

_Dear Sairen-san,_

_I take it you have enjoyed the hanabi festival tonight? The fireworks were indeed lovely. But enough of idle talk, I have a mission for you. The daimyo of this country has recently been allocating more missions to our ally, Konohagakure, the Hidden Leaf Village. As a result, more funds go there instead of to us, causing Konoha to become more prosperous. If this continues, Suna will be completely eradicated due to the competition or lack thereof. Thus, I have decided to invade Konoha to eliminate the competition. Survival of the fittest, no?_

_Conveniently, this year's Chunin Exams are held in Konoha. I have made an alliance with Orochimaru of Hidden Sound as he wishes to achieve the same goal: the destruction of Konoha. And this is your mission: you are to partake in the exams and advance to the third round which is styled like a tournament. The result of your match is not important, and after the first round, a signal will be given to initiate the invasion. You are to ensure the attack progresses smoothly and maximum damage is dealt to Konoha. Kill any and all opposition. _

_Take the other letter with you to Konoha. I have already dispatched a team there. They will also be taking the exams. Their sensei is a man named Baki, to whom you will deliver the other letter, and he will give you further instructions. _

_Briefly speaking, the exam must be taken as a three man cell. I have already organized a team, and you are to meet them tomorrow morning by the gates. Departure time is at seven. Don't be late, though I doubt you will. _

_One last note: I applaud you for your prudence. Had you read the other letter, you would have now been lying on the floor unconscious, and it would be such a shame to dispose the body of the infamous Sairen. _

_May the mission be a success. _

_Best regards,_

_Yondaime Kazekage_

After reading the letter, she held it over the fire of the gas stove. The edges of the paper curled inward as it burned, and the flickering flames consumed the letter until it was no more than a pile of ashes.

Having placed the other letter in her pouch, she would deliver it as soon as she reached Konoha.

Frowning, she realized that in order the letter from the Kazekage, her house had to be infiltrated, and she wasn't too keen on that notion. So she decided to do the logical thing that any other shinobi would do: set traps. She rigged all exits with strings that were able to identify chakras. Feed it a little bit of chakra, and if any other chakra other than the one fed, it would trigger volleys of raining senbons. And since the house is so small, there is nowhere to hide in the split seconds before the needles connected. And for good measure, she mixed in some poisoned senbons. If anyone other than herself entered the room, they would be warmly greeted with instant death.

She signed.

The mission is going to be such a pain.

—

She stood by the village gate. The first streaks of sunlight broke over the horizon, a sharp contrast against the indigo night. In Iwa, the tall looming rocks always blocked the view of the sky, and the citizens lived in perpetual darkness. But here, the desert stretched over a countless expanse, providing a truly magnificent view of daybreak.

However, it didn't do anything to deter the thoughts of the mission. Leaf was known to possess some extremely talented shinobi, including the prized Byakugan bloodline and the Sharingan, not to mention the numerous jealously guarded hidden jutsus. Taking on an entire village would be difficult, even with her talents. But that doesn't mean it can't be done. It's surprising to see how easily villages can fall. There was a reason why ninja villages were hidden. Everyone has a secret. If she chips away at the morale with some well-placed verbal revelations and backstabbing, then bam, it collapses like a house built in a shaky foundation.

And the Chunin Exams. They are such a pain, for the fresh eyed brats to show off their jutsus to the daimyos. Heck, she'll wipe the floor with their blood when she's through with them. From what she heard, the location of the exams rotated among the Hidden Villages, and this year, it takes place in Konoha, perfectly coinciding with the Sand's invasion. The genins taking these exams have only done D-rank missions, which according to her late sensei, consisted of menial chores such as retrieving runaway cats. Compared to the missions she has undertaken, they were a million light years of difference.

"Hey Sayuri sensei, who's our new teammate for the exams?" a blonde boy asked a woman in her late twenties, both now nearing the gate.

"Now, now, Atsuya, you'll meet her in a little bit. And you know, patience is a good virtue for a ninja to possess."

He frowned at the reminder, the corners of his mouth turning downward, forming a pout. May Kami help him. How was he going to survive the Chunin Exams when the mortality rate was around forty percent? She sniffed with disdain. He was too innocent to be shinobi, a life filled with bloodshed and violence. A civilian life would suit him better.

"And where's Tsubaki?" He whined, " she's gonna make us late."

"She'll be here," his instructor replied shortly, clearly annoyed with her student's inquiries. "There are still five minutes until the designated time, so we're actually early."

A moment later, a sandy haired girl asked, panting from exhaustion.

"Am I," she wheezed, "late?"

"No, we just got here early," her sensei answered. "And look, there's your new teammate." The trio approached the lone kunoichi, who was currently looking at them with an unreadable expression on her face. It gave away no inkling to her thoughts.

"Miyuki?" the jonin asked, appearing slightly unsettled by the girl's piercing gaze.

The kunoichi inclined her head a fraction, affirming the jonin's question.

"Do you have the letter?"

"Yes."

"Alright then, let's do some brief introductions. I'm Sayuri, your jonin sensei. Atsuya and Tsubaki, this is your new teammate, Miyuki who you will be partaking the Chunin Exams with, and this," she gestured at the two genins, "is Atsuya and Tsubaki."

The boy, ever the courteous one, greeted the kunoichi amicably, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miyuki. As you know, I'm Atsuya, and I specialize in hand-to-hand combat. I can't help but wonder why is it that I have never seen you around the village."

He received no reply.

The jonin, sensing the tension in the air, quickly responded, "Ah, yes. Miyuki graduated a year earlier and has been on countless mission since then, so she isn't in the village often and that's why you haven't seen her around."

The boy nodded, satisfied with his sensei's explanation.

Fool.

Either he was completely stupid or incredibly good at masking his emotions. Only an idiot would believe the nonsense the jonin had created. The explanation was riddled with logical flaws, and the fact that he trusted the absurd explanation over his own instincts made him out to be a bigger fool than she originally thought.

"So she's just a replacement for Isumu?" The girl snorted, displeased with their new addition. "She better not make us fail the exams."

Silence ensued.

"I think I should be the one saying that," all views turned to the other kunoichi, who was examining a senbon with quiet intensity.

"If any of you," she pointed the senbon at the two Sand genins, "are the cause of our failure, the consequences you will suffer by my hand will be a hundred times more painful than what any opponent could inflict."

She then turned to the jonin, "And this is perfectly legal because the Kazekage has tasked me with the success of the exam which is to be achieved at _any _cost."

The threat hung in the air, accompanied by the tranquilness of dawn.

"We won't," the boy responded with hesitation after a few moments.

"See that you don't," she threw the senbon in front of the boy's feet, sinking into the fine sand with a soft thud.

She turned around and walked out the village gate.

"Well," their sensei said, after a few awkward seconds, "we better get going. Konoha isn't getting any closer while we're standing and around. And you, Tsubaki," she addressed her female student, "watch your mouth, especially around her. It could get you killed."

Her student glowered at her, but wisely didn't say anything.

They departed the village, pursuing the other member of their team, who was already a diminishing speck in the distance.

—

The journey was uneventful, taking three days to reach the Hidden Leaf. The girl, Tsubaki, complained about everything. She complained about the food, the heat (although why she would is perplexing since she lives in the desert), the exams. It was starting to grate her female teammate's nerves, but she never brought up the subject. It was their jonin sensei who told her to "quit whining and act like a proper shinobi". The loud rants had quieted to a constant mumbling.

The change in topography was an obvious indicator of the border. The windswept dunes gradually transitioned into dense undergrowth, which made for another source of grumbling for Tsubaki, contributing to the headache of their instructor.

The forest was lush and overflowing with life, and fragmented sunlight like stained glass shine through the thick canopy, and little creatures were basking in its warmness. Compared to the bleakness of the Wind Country, the Fire Country had this calmness that ensured both inhabitants and travelers everything is at peace. Ironically, it also contains the most prosperous ninja village.

They stopped when the village gate came into sight. Pale green gates swung open to both sides, and the emblem of the Hidden Leaf was carved into a wooden placard overhead. It was only fitting for the famed village to have such a majestic entrance.

_Two villages in five days... _At this rate, she could tour all five hidden villages before the month was over. She was on a roll.

* * *

**Beta'd by Drops of Azure**


End file.
